listening for the knock
upon my door,
and waiting...
for the Promised Land.
Standing neck deep in life,
my ring of brass
lay rusting on the floor.
Is this all?,
because it isn´t what I expected.
Somewhere along the way
friends I once held close
fled the fast lane.
I did not notice,
I just had to make it.
Head down, nose to the grindstone;
the kiss of life
placed on my brow
somehow slid to the ground
and lies buried six feet under.
Preaching from the floor again
the same old sad song,
"Bartender... bring another drink for their favorite son."
Where did it all go wrong?
What´s the use in even holding on?
Here is to love, hate... & promises.
Almost called it today.
Turned to face "The Void"
numb with the suffering
and the question,
"Why am I...?"
So many times I have
tried & failed to
gather my courage, reach again for that nail.
Life is been like
dragging feet through sand,
and never finding... Promised Land.
Preaching from the floor again
the same old sad song,
"Bartender... bring another drink for their favorite son."
Where did it all go wrong?
I feel like I am dying.
Here is to love, to hate,
to promises & Promised Land lies
Nu ką, nemaža tikimybė, kad vistik My Dying Bride nebus Kilkim Žaibu, atšaukė beveik visus šių metų pasirodymus. Tik organizatoriai kažkaip neskuba pranešti ir toliau reklamuoja..
guess I did make my name out of my drumming, and I have the big drum sets, and I'm doing all these crazy, odd-time signatures, so, yeah, I guess drumming was very important to what made me popular.